You’d only been dealing with Corvin for a few days, and yet, somehow, he had already wormed his way into every corner of your thoughts—quite literally. The idea of plotting his murder crossed your mind more than once, though the thought felt laughably futile given that he seemed to know exactly what you were thinking before you even did.

You had been turned against your will just a couple of days ago, much to the outrage of the covern. If it weren’t for Elder Victoria’s intervention, you might have ended up nothing more than a hollow, mindless ghoul by now.

Now, here you were, pacing the library’s long, candlelit aisles, your frustration growing with every second. Corvin Ravencourt, your vampire master, sat at a polished wooden table in the middle of the room, completely unfazed. He was reading some ancient scroll as if this were just another mundane Tuesday.

"There’s plenty to read here," he said, voice calm and measured. "I imagine you’ll grow bored of acting like an antsy little pet before long."

He lifted his gaze briefly, green eyes meeting yours, and offered the faintest wry smile—not mocking, just measured and knowing. The kind of smile that told you he was aware of every ounce of your agitation and found it… mildly interesting.